It has been a busy day for me. From 9 am to 6 pm I have been going, with maps, panorama, dictionary, Baedecker, and worrying the anxious couriers. Talked to folk now and then. Used the field glasses on the quaint and ancient castles, fortresses, and strongholds, and also on the abbeys, stifts, churches, monasteries, and on the fields and the houses and the people.
The Danube as I have seen it for over 100 miles is comparable in beauty and interest with the Rhine, of which I have seen much more and shall soon see still more. There is, it seems to me, no saying that one is better or richer in interest than the other. Both are wonderful, uplifting, thought-provoking, inspiring. So too, in richness of interest and beauty is the Thames. And, in quite another way, the Mississippi, where I have spent only a couple of days, or the Hudson, of which I saw much more, or the Nile of which I saw Cairo to Zapazig. Indeed, all rivers, as rivers, and as the homes of men, fascinate me, even more than mountains and plains, of which they are the sculptors and builders. The Murray has its interest, and the Yarra and the Torrens, and even McCallum’s Creek, at Dunach.
I saw the meteorites, a gorgeous collection. They said it was the finest in the world. And it may be. But I have now seen many fine collections, especially in London and New York, that look as if they were the largest. However, the variety here was remarkable. And the tektites were there in full recognition, labelled Tektiten oder Glas Meteoriten; Moldanites, Billitonites, and Australites. The Director of the museum is Dr H. Michel who has written several papers, and we had quite an interesting talk on the ways and methods of meteorites, especially glass ones.
Saw one of the most perfect geological and physiographic maps of the high Alps that one could imagine—the sort of map that many geologists and geomorphologists have dreamt about or imagined. It was really wonderful. A German Doctor of Science, Haecker did it. What a monument to be remembered by! There it is, forever, every detail of strata and erosion, and forest and talus, the most delicate detailed perfect thing imaginable. It is an education to have seen it. I wish our University would buy a copy of it. Went through the animals, birds—very good collection of moas here, also moa’s feathers, abundant insects in amber, coal forests, models of Vienna. One can see that lack of money presses. Nothing new seems to have been done for 30 years—doubtless since 1914!
An unforgettable day. Up early. We knew that we were going somewhere, but had no idea of the great treat and novelty that had been prepared. For myself, looking at everything from the point of view of human geography; houses, vehicles, dress, crops, occupations, associated with physiographic factors, it was an immense privilege to get well out on to the great Plains of Hungary, the vast level stretches of the Lower Danubian Plains.
Driving out on our 80 kilometre motor-bus trip, along the main highway from Calais to Constantinople (excellent road), there was much of interest in the suburbs, the city buildings, the great Danube and the way its shores are intensely used here. Everywhere in the ornaments is the eagle, or rather a mythical bird the Turul which guided the first Hungarians here in AD 896. As we got out into the country there was much the same. The same fertility (though there has been a few weeks drought and rain is needed) the villages and paths. The avenues of fruit trees. The woods. But the villages were differently spaced, the houses of a somewhat different pattern, there were more ponds and geese; there were many more cattle and, for the first time, a good few horses. We were coming to the plains, the home of pastoral occupations. Cherries persisted but apricots outdid them. The cows of the Puszta, like those of the Northern Swiss, are curiously of one breed, the Puszta cattle are big horned, creamy coloured. One old bull had silver balls tipping his horns.
The light four wheeled wagon of the Tyrol persisted irregularly and gave way to a heavier typical wagon, nothing like so heavy as ours, with bent wood and iron pieces going over the wheels to the axles. These carts have straw in the bottom and a couple of seats set in, and they form the family conveyance. We drove for many miles across the plains in such a vehicle, with an old Hongroise as driver. The wells and their gear thrilled me for they are in every geography and story book of these great grasslands. The lever is weighted and the water lifter handles the rope or chain that goes into the well. One must assume that all the wells everywhere are at the same level. A great place to develop arguments against the dowser, the omnipresence of water is so obvious.
The crops were largely maize and spuds (both the gift of America) but there were also poppies, sunflowers, wheat, rye, and many others. Much lucerne. Many women worked in the fields with the men, and almost always all were barefoot. There are no stones on these plains. Everywhere as I saw it a blue-gray fine sand. Is it loess? I strongly suspect that it is. Too even for anything else. The land where cultivated is under strip culture, but everywhere fenceless. We saw cattle, sheep, pigs, and geese out in herds and with their herdsmen (sometimes women or children). We saw also goats and cows tethered and hobbled. Reaping is done with the scythe, and this is men’s and youths’ work.
The houses are often prettily red-tiled, but many are thatched. There are no building stones. The houses are not of wood, I suspect mud brick, always neatly painted white. Each house has its well. Towards Kecskemét the houses were more like ours in their spacing, but in no other way, except that they have rooms, doors, and windows. But often one saw houses set in their own gardens, on their own property, not clustered in villages so much. Often too one saw a sort of communal place for the grass hay stacks, 20 or 30 or more, all belonging to different people obviously and all in one space.
On the plain we saw three great black and white storks, and a storks’ nest in a tree. Also spur-wing plovers, mole hills (many and new), and a little grey animal that may have been a weasel or stoat. The herds of horses and cattle on the puszta (prairie) we saw well. The cattle and horses have tinkling bells. The herdsmen are nomadic for the summer grazing season, and have movable houses.
When we got to Kecskemét, the mayor welcomed us in English, German and French, at some length in a very charming and well-decorated town hall. Then, escorted by soldiers, we took the train. Rattled along, on board seats in ordinary trucks, with a calico covering overhead. Uninterrupted view. Waved to everyone, in the fields or by their houses. There are few 'great open spaces' here where you can’t wave to someone every minute or two. At Bugac, met by retinue of cowboys. Got into the village waggons, two or three plus a driver, and away we went over the puszta. Jolted and all that. But great fun. Then we got to the place where we fed. Great preparations. Abundance of apricot liqueur and apricot brandy, very cheap. On the tables an abundance of wine. Announced that all the wine was free, but that coffee cost extra! A rush for the wine. It was very good wine, the liqueur was exquisite, and the apricot brandy very good, tres bon, sehr gut. All the dishes of the country, cooked their way: Soup, Chicken, Sweets, Goulash, Wine, Wine, Wine.